What's Her Name?
by CharlotteBlackwood
Summary: Another Remus Smutshot! What happens when Sirius drags Remus to a wizarding gentleman's club? What happens when the pole dancer is a former student? What happens when he can't remember who she is, exactly, and Sirius spots a great joke? RL/LT... ENJOY! M, AU, YES THERE'S SMUT, I SWEAR


**A/N: This is the next in my line of Remus Smutshots (as I like to call them). The last, if you missed it, or are new to the adventure, was Remus/Lily Luna Potter. Don't ask how it works, just go read it! This is Remus/Lisa Turpin... Ravenclaw, Harry's year. Yes, another Teacher/Former Student fic. I can't help it. I made a vow to see this through. There are a lot of students. I'll try to find a fresh angle. Now, here goes! Enjoy! Share your thoughts!**

** -J**

He'd never actually been to a club before, wizarding or otherwise. It had been Sirius who'd talked him into it, insisting that they have a little fun for surviving both wars.

"Sirius," Remus had argued, "I don't _want_ to have fun. My wife and child are _dead_."

"Mooney, if we spent time properly morning every person we love who died, we'd never have fun again," Sirius snapped petulantly. "And they wouldn't want that, so we're going to have fun, damn it. It's been two years! It's high time we remembered how to celebrate!"

And so against his will, Remus found himself sitting at a table in a wizarding gentleman's club with Sirius, who looked like a kid at a candy store.

"Isn't this fantastic?" Sirius cried over the loud techno music as he watched the witch pole-dancing in the middle of the club.

Remus just nodded absently as he watched the girl, trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. The face, the hair... She was probably about Harry's age, he reasoned. He knew a lot of girls that age, at least a little bit, because...

"Bloody hell," Remus rasped, realizing that the girl whose body Sirius was admiring with hungry eyes was one of his former students, although he had still yet to place which student she was. Not a Gryffindor, certainly. He still knew all their names. This girl's name was escaping him.

"I know, she's flexible as silk," Sirius sighed, licking his lips as he watched the girl Remus had just realized was his student.

"No, it's not that," Remus yelled into Sirius's ear. "I taught her, at Hogwarts! She's Harry's age!"

Instead of discouraging Sirius from ogling the girl like Remus had hoped, this seemed to give Sirius some devious plan, judging by the grin that grew across his face. He told Remus not to move, that he had to go to the toilet and he'd be back.

Remus didn't believe him, of course, but he had nothing he could do until Sirius got back, so he turned to his drink and sighed, purposefully not looking at the girl pole dancing. Instead, he tried to remember her name as he contemplated his half-consumed drink. She was a Ravenclaw, he thought. He could almost picture her in a blue and bronze scarf during Christmastime, or at a Quidditch match, the one where Harry'd done the Patronus at the fake dementors. She'd been in the crowd of disappointed Ravenclaws with her scarf, he was sure of it.

But her name was still eluding him when Sirius returned grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"C'mon, I got you a present," Sirius said eagerly. "C'mon, Mooney, c'mon, we haven't got all day!"

"What did you do?" Remus moaned as Sirius yanked him to his feet, dragging him through the club to what Remus guessed were the private rooms.

Sirius had gotten Remus a private show, damn him, and Remus knew without even asking who he'd gotten it with.

Remus shifted uncomfortably on the cushions, barely thinking about the rules that he'd been told about not touching the girl without invitation, paying extra for certain acts (which Sirius had said he'd do and not to worry about, but Remus was petrified with the very thought of said acts with a former student). There were other rules, he thought, but the door was opening and the scantily-clad brunette was entering with an enigmatic, taunting smile on her face.

"Hello, professor."

Either she remembered him better than he remembered her, or Sirius had something. He wouldn't put it past his friend, but students had a way of remembering their teachers, and his departure had been... memorable.

She walked toward him with a slinky sort of walk that looked more natural than practiced, but he'd known enough women to know that none of them were born walking that way. This girl - What was her _name_? - who was barely old enough to be a woman had probably been practicing it quite a lot, from the looks of things.

Not that Remus was looking.

Although it was hard not to as she crawled onto the cushions, straddling his lap without really even touching him, displaying her hard, lean stomach, her full, lush, gravity-defying breasts were right in front of his eyes, taunting him, asking him to beg to touch them.

Instead, Remus clutched vainly at the fabric of the cushions, trying not to respond to the lap dance she gave him, eventually dropping all pretense of rules and touching him, not only touching him but _intimately_ touching him. Could Sirius truly have been cruel enough to have organized all of this? Or was the girl doing it of her own accord?

Remus decided that he could no longer think of her as a girl when she firmly grasped him through his trousers. No, she was most certainly a woman.

It was almost easy to forget where he was and what was happening as she pulled off her minimal amount of clothing. It was almost easy to forget all propriety as her fingers slowly and teasingly undid his buttons, her fingers tracing the scarred skin of his chest like one admiring a fine silk. Remus leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as he relished the feel of her lips on his collarbone as her hands worked to undo his trousers.

But he couldn't really forget. He was a widower, a war hero, a former professor, and she was his former student. Everything about it was wrong, but as she stripped off the remainder of his clothing he couldn't think of anything but how good her soft skin felt on his.

It had been a long time, it was true. He'd hardly dared touch Tonks while she was pregnant for fear he'd hurt the baby, and the birth was so complicated that she was too weak afterward. It was part of why she'd been killed in the battle. She was weak and distracted.

Distracted because she'd thought Remus was dead. She'd been looking for him, not covering herself as she'd been taught.

Speaking of distraction, Remus thought as the girl on his lap ground her naked body against his unsheathed manhood, which was harder than he could remember it being since his wedding night. Still refusing to touch her of his own accord, Remus gripped the cushions vigorously, eyes still closed.

To his surprise, she toot his hands and moved them to her breasts, guiding his thumbs in caressing the hard nubs of her nipples, as if he needed any guidance in the matter.

His eyes flew open guiltily, desperate and nervous to see her reaction to his touch.

Remus was pleased to see that the girl's eyes were closed, her head thrown back as she moaned with pleasure, face flushed with the heat of desire.

Indeed, it wasn't simply a show for his benefit, Remus realized, feeling the wetness of her center actually dripping down her leg and onto his throbbing cock.

Her eyes opened, dark with lust, and she said in a husky voice dripping with sex, "Fuck me, Professor! Please!"

Remus took a moment to register the words she'd said, so she gave him a hand, guiding his cock into her warm, wet, tightness. It took barely a thrust from her to get him pushed into a mad frenzy, giving into his lust and working with her to build the passion, pleasure, tension between their bodies. His whole body was filled with a fiery sort of need as she flexed around him, pushing him to the edge close and hard and fast.

He wasn't going to hold on very long, he realized, the sweat that mingled between them precipitated furiously as he panted, enjoying the feel of her body bouncing on him.

"I... I can't..."

"Let go!" she moaned, rolling her head back again.

And so he did, letting go violently, roaring his passion, his pleasure as she screamed, clawing desperately at his shoulders.

When Remus came down from his high he realized she was putting her skimpy costume back on and toweling her beautiful body down.

"I... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he said, although he knew exactly what came over him, and the amused look she give him told him that she knew as well.

"Trust me, Professor," she said wryly, "you've got nothing to apologize for. I've dreamed of that since I was just a kid figuring out what sex was."

His mouth flapped open and closed as she blew him a kiss on her way out, closing the door behind her so he could dress.

And as he cleaned up and pulled his clothes back on, he recalled her name.

Lisa Turpin, Ravenclaw.

And Remus decided to thank Sirius for dragging him out that night after all.


End file.
